


On Marriage

by Lottiethroughthelookingglass



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Established Relationship, Fake Marriage, M/M, Post-Canon, Weddings, but post-canon ignoring the terrible ending, buying a motel, obviously cas is back from the empty and everything's fine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-13
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-21 01:54:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30014310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lottiethroughthelookingglass/pseuds/Lottiethroughthelookingglass
Summary: Marriage had never been on the cards for Dean and Castiel. But then there was a routine hunt, some ill advised cover stories, the allure of cheap real estate and now they're proud owners of a fixer upper motel and according to the rest of the town - married.orDean's thoughts on marriage throughout the years.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 5
Kudos: 103





	On Marriage

**Author's Note:**

> Shows up a month late to the wedding with an essay on how i don't think they'd actually have a wedding but they absolutely do get married.... also own a motel.
> 
> Also in this world Dean is not dead, Cas is back from the empty, Sam is actually doing leader stuff with the bunker and Charlie is OG Charlie because in the better version of supernatural that lives in my head she never got killed off in the first place.

**August 1982**

_“So, are you back or you getting your things?”_

_“Mary…”_

_“Just be quiet about it. I’ve put Dean to bed, he doesn’t need to-”_

_“I’m staying.”_

_John stands in the doorway, still wearing the same clothes he’d walked out in three nights ago._

_“Ron said he saw you at the bar the other night. He said he was worried you were about to do something…”_

_“I didn’t- Mary I’m not going anywhere. I needed some time to cool off but- Mary, you’re my wife. This is my family.”_

_“I know.”_

_At a standstill. The couple don’t move, don’t budge._

_“Mary…” he pleads._

_“I’m going to bed.” She heads to the stairs, then turns – a small act of forgiveness, “There’s dinner in the fridge.”_

_He stands in the doorway, hesitates as he watches her leave, before crossing the threshold back into their home._

_“Daddy?”_

_“Dean? What are you still doing up?”_

_The boy appears from where he’d hidden himself behind the kitchen door frame._

_“Are you going again?”_

_“No. No, I’m not going anywhere.”_

_“Then why did you-”_

_“-Dean.” He snaps, then breathes, “I’m back. Ok? I’d never leave you.”_

_“Or Mum?”_

_He doesn’t answer straight away. Takes the time to take the food out of the refrigerator._

_“Or Mum.”_

_“Then why did you yell at her?”_

_“One day… you’ll understand. Sometimes mums and dads fight and sometimes we need some time apart but when you’re married and you love someone, you keep at it, even if it’s hard.”_

_The boy considers this, sitting on a chair at the breakfast table as his dad microwaves his dinner._

_“You think I’ll be married when I’m big?”_

_“One day you’ll find a beautiful girl and she’s gonna make you very happy.”_

_“Will I yell at her sometimes too? And need “time apart”?’_

_“I hope not.”_

_The microwave beeps, John takes the plate out from the tray and sits beside his son at the table._

_They sit in silence. Their little family._

* * *

**October 1988**

_“How did you know when you wanted to get married?”_

_Sam, John and Dean sit at the table in the corner of their little room in the cheapest motel in town. The guns are laid out, dismantled on the table. Dean watches his father, intent on mimicking every gesture as they clean the rifles with rags made from Sam’s old baby clothes._

_Sam is equally focused on his own task, colouring in a homework sheet full of bees and flowers. His feet swing on his chair, unable to quite reach the ground. He doesn’t even look up when he asks his question, just continues punishing the paper with a red crayon._

_John considers Sam’s question as he begins clicking his rifle back together._

_“The moment I first saw her.” He says finally, “When you’re in love, you just know.”_

_A little smile appears on Sammy’s face but he pushes it down. Feigning aloofness, an impressive feat for a five-year-old, he swaps to the yellow crayon._

_“What’s love feel like?”_

_“Like you’d do anything for her. Just being around her makes you happy.” John pauses, he’s calm tonight. Dean can’t help but feel it has to be the calm before a storm even with no clouds in sight. He starts to put his rifle back together. “She loved you both,” John adds, “she loved all of us. That’s why we’ve gotta keep doing this. Because when you love someone, you never let them go.”_

_Sammy nods sagely, he goes back to his colouring. “I’m gonna ask Penny Roberts to marry me.” He declares. “Because I love her.”_

_John lets out a laugh. Dean almost flinches._

_“A ladies man already Sammy?” He chuckles._

_Sammy looks proud of himself. “What about you Dean? Who are you gonna marry?” Sam asks._

_“I’m not gonna get married.” He replies, “I’m gonna be a hunter.”_

_John is smiling at both of them. He looks proud. It’s nice._

_They leave town the next week. Sam and Penny don’t quite manage to get married._

* * *

**September 2006**

_“You know, I didn’t realise…” he’s not sure why he’s bringing it up. It’s water under the bridge. Well, not really. Nothing ever seems to be under the bridge. “I didn’t realise you were so serious about Jess.”_

_Sam doesn’t answer him._

_“You were really thinking about asking her to marry you?”_

_“Well, it doesn’t matter now. I won’t make that mistake again.”_

_“You don’t know that.”_

_“Are you kidding? You’re the one who said there’s no getting out of this life. Marriage, white picket fence, it’s not for us.”_

_“We’re gonna get Yellow Eyes-”_

_“And then what? I don’t know if this even ends with him anymore. And even if it does… You were right. That apple pie life or whatever’s not for people like us.”_

_Dean drops the subject. He knows Sam’s right. He doesn’t bring it up again._

* * *

**November 2010**

_She smiles in her sleep. She does it often and he can only imagine what she sees in her dreams that makes her smile like that. She never mentions them in the morning. Maybe it’s a fantasy life she dreams about, beaches and sunrises. Or maybe it’s something closer to the life they’re living._

_Their life._

_It feels weird. The two of them and Ben. Their life together._

_He knows he doesn’t smile like that when he sleeps. He knows he often wakes her, limbs thrashing and pained moans. Dreams about Hell and monsters and Sam… Sam who’s still stuck down there and is going to be for the rest of his life._

_He pushes the thought to the back of his mind. He can’t think about it, can’t dwell or he’ll be stuck there forever. It’s not what Sam wants- wanted._

_Lisa shuffles a little in her sleep, her cold toes bump against his leg._

_Sid had asked him last week if he was planning on marrying her._

_He laughed it off at the time, turned it into a joke because he didn’t have an honest answer._

_Could he?_

_Should he?_

_Does he want to?_

_He loves her. He knows that. Her and Ben, he wants to protect them, make sure they’re safe and, being here, having a home with them is… it’s nice. But marriage would mean more than that… Well, firstly it’d mean a wedding and he’s not sure how he’d explain to Lisa’s friends and family why he hasn’t got a soul on his side of the church. There’s no one to invite anymore anyway. Well, he could try Bobby, but he can barely imagine the gruff old man at an honest to god wedding reception. Other than that there’d be…. Cas?_

_Dean shakes his head, there’s an idea. Son of a bitch angel probably wouldn’t even bother RSVPing._

_And then after?_

_It’s after that really terrifies him. Proposing to, marrying Lisa would mean he was making a real commitment. Acknowledging that that part of his life - the hunting, his family, Sam, Dad, angels and demons - is really, truly over._

_The sun’s creeping over the horizon. He’ll have to get up for work soon. Another day of his normal, happy, apple pie life._

_Lisa’s not smiling anymore. She’s too deeply asleep._

_He can admit it to himself here, alone, in the early hours of the morning. He loves her. He loves Ben. And a part of him loves this life but… he still can’t acknowledge that it’s his. That it’s going to be his. Forever._

_Maybe one day he will. Maybe one day he’ll be ready._

_But it’s not today._

* * *

**March 2021**

_“Two attractive, newlyweds. Probably watched Falling Inn Love one too many times. Saw the motel on the internet, fell in love with it, just wanna go out there and live their Fixer Upper dreams. They buy the inn, work hard at fixing it and all goes well until they hire a handsome handyman, Steve, who challenges their already rocky young marriage because Cas was never truly onboard with the motel dream in the first place-”_

_“Is this a backstory or holiday rom-com.”_

_“Both.” Charlie grins. “Ooh!” She jumps up to grab a small box out of her bag, “Don’t forget your rings!”_

_She throws two cheap, silver-plated rings at Dean._

_Dean frowns, “You don’t think this is a bit… We could just you know -”_

_“-I’ve already done your fake papers and backstory so suck it up and go fake marry your boyfriend for the week.”_

_Dean gives Charlie a glare across the war table. She gives him a shit-eating grin in return._

_Dean sighs, there’s no fighting her. “And you’re-”_

_“The hot, mysterious FBI agent with a dark secret from the big smoke, forced to come to the small country town to investigate the murders.”_

_“Have you ever considered writing for Mills and Boon?”_

_“I have.”_

_“Why did we let you plan the hunt again?”_

_“Because you love me. Not as much as you love your new husband, but you do love me.”_

_“I am questioning both of those things right now.”_

_“Told you the marriage was rocky.”_

_Dean rolls his eyes and goes for a casual attitude as he slips the rings into his pocket for later. But his heart’s already racing as his brain tries not to overanalyse the implications of acting out Charlie’s melodramatic fantasy._

* * *

**March 21 st 2021**

His nametag says Larry. His complexion says he doesn’t get out much. His belly says he drinks too much beer.

“What can I do you for fellas?” he asks as they walk through the door.

Dean shifts in the bulky cardigan Charlie insisted he wear. Larry can probably sense the uncomfortable energy edging off him. Nerves that don’t have any right to be there. It’s just a case after all.

“A single please.” Cas answers.

“Too easy.” Larry smiles. He gives Dean a suspicious look. “So, what brings you two to town?”

Dean tries to slip into his Hallmark-movie cover story, “Well,” he starts with an expression that he hopes comes across as giddy and not manic, “we’re newlyweds. Just got married a couple of months ago, and we’re looking to buy a motel. You know a real fixer upper. And we saw the ad for the motel just outside town and it looked just like what we’ve both been dreaming of, don’t ya think hun?”

“Yes.” Cas nods, awkwardly. Great now they both look like weirdos.

“Moreton River Motel?” Larry’s eyes narrow.

“That’s the one.” Dean smiles, he throws an arm around Cas in what he hopes is a casual, loving way but he overdoes it and half hits Cas on the side of the head. _Why hadn’t they decided to go with a less personal cover story? Like business partners? Or very good friends?_

Larry leans back in his chair. It creaks ominously, “Look, I don’t want to scare you two off. You know, not to say I wouldn’t want some friendly competition so I’m not saying this because I own the only other motel in town but… you know that place is haunted?”

“Haunted?” Cas says in a completely monotone voice.

“Yeah, they say the last owner killed himself but- not to sound wacko- but he was killed by ghosts! And he wasn’t the only one…”

A manic glint enters Larry’s eyes as he leans forward to tell them of the suicides in Room 4 and the woman who died of fright in Room 12 and the child who drowned in Room 6. How the motel was run into the ground, how the old man kept it until a year ago when he electrocuted himself with a razor. He lets his voice go into full-on spooky-story-on-Halloween-night mode and it’s weirdly soothing. Dean lets his arm actually relax around Cas’s shoulders as the facts of the case wash over him.

They already know all of them of course, read all the accounts of the deaths in the local news and the police files classifying them all as tragic accidents and suicides. It’s sounding like it’s probably just a ghost or potentially a few of them. They’ll be out of here within a week if not sooner.

Dean absentmindedly rubs circles into the fabric of the Cas’s own cardigan. He’s wearing it paired with a polo shirt curtesy of Charlie’s “costume design”. It’s not a good look but as Charlie put it, the goal was for them to look “unintimidating”. Cas is still giving Larry his customary stare which looks like he’s (and up until recently actually was) staring into your very soul, so Dean’s not sure if the polo and cardigan completely offset that.

Larry finally finishes his story, eyebrows raised for their reaction.

“Well,” Dean removes his arm from around Cas, “that does sound scary.”

It’s clearly not quite the response Larry was after. He hands them the keys to their room and he stares at them sceptically as they leave.

It’s all going swimmingly.

* * *

“Bronte, the estate agent, has agreed to give us a tour tomorrow morning at 11am.” Cas informs Dean as he hangs up his phone.

“Perfect, that gives Charlie time to talk to the police before we get there and find out if there’s anything more we don’t know.”

“Have you let Sam know we’re here?”

“Sam’s busy with Eileen working on getting the bunker sorted, it’s not like he needs to know where we are at all times.”

Cas gives him a look.

Dean sighs, “I texted him while you were on the phone.”

The bed dips as Cas sits on the edge, he moves and leans back against the headboard. He sinks into the pillows, it’s moments like these where Dean could almost forget he used to be an angel. All of that stiffness is gone and now he’s just a guy in a dopey looking cardigan fiddling with his wedding ring-

The reminder sends a bolt of nausea? -jealousy? -fear? -something, through Dean’s stomach. That’s right, pretending to be married.

Cas had been particularly blasé when Dean had unceremoniously chucked the ring at him and told him Charlie’s backstory. Dean’d tried to keep it light, treat it like a joke to not betray the way his own heart was doing somersaults at the concept of pretending to be married to Cas.

Cas for his part had just nodded, agreed to the plan and slipped the ring on like it was no big deal.

It’s not like he has a problem pretending to be a couple. They are a couple. Have been since Cas came home. Since Dean got his head out of his ass and actually told Cas that he felt that way too. No, Dean is quite happy being a couple. Enthusiastic even, it’s just…

“I don’t think I can wear this very long. It’s staining my finger.” Cas’s voice cuts through Dean’s ruminations.

Dean jerks his head up as Cas takes the ring off his finger and places it on the bed stand. A green stain encircling his ring finger.

“Well- yeah I think Charlie got them really cheap so… I mean we only have to wear them in front of Larry and the real estate agent.” Dean replies as he takes his own ring off and throws it on the table by his side of the bed.

Cas is giving him one of his soul-searching stares.

“What?”

“You seem troubled.”

“No. I’m fine.”

“You say that most often when you _are_ troubled.”

Dean shrugs and shifts closer to Cas, “Why would I be troubled? The world’s not ending, we get to go house hunting for haunted motels tomorrow and Charlie’s promised to shout lunch. Things are looking good to me.”

Cas tilts his head, unconvinced.

Dean decides to shut up his scrutiny with a kiss. It seems to work.

Thankfully, it also seems to shut up the voice in Dean’s head that’s still thinking about those rings and why they freak him out so much.

* * *

**March 22 nd 2021**

“Well, this place is definitely haunted.”

Dean puts the EMF meter back in his pocket.

“More than one ghost then?”

“I’m thinking given the EMF and the number of deaths, we’re looking at several.”

“In that case we call Charlie, get a full list of probable suspects and try and hit all the graves in one night?”

Dean hums in agreement as he checks out the room’s adjoining bathroom. It needs an update but it’s a good layout.

For a motel that’s been out of commission the last few years, it’s not really in that bad a shape. The view out the window is kind of beautiful, a couple of miles off the interstate, hidden amongst the forest and mountains. For a roadside motel it’s strangely peaceful. _Much nicer than that other place we’re staying,_ Dean thinks to himself.

“How you two going?” Bronte the Real Estate agent steps back into the room, smile and thick makeup plastered over her bone-deep exhaustion.

“Really good thanks.” Dean replies.

“Did you have any other questions? About the building? About the business?”

“No, I think we’re gonna go home and think about it.” Cas says.

“The building out the back, did that use to be a laundromat?” Dean asks before he realises he’s even thinking about it.

“Uh, yeah, I think so.” Bronte looks through her notes, “I don’t think it has any machines anymore though. So it would need to be replaced.”

“Ok… And the water system is still working?”

“Oh yes, the previous owner also installed rain tanks so you’ve got your own water supply, but I think he mostly used that for the house and the pool.”

Cas is giving him a strange look. Bronte’s looking hopeful. Fourteen months is a long time to be trying to sell a dilapidated and extremely haunted motel.

“We’ll come find you if we have any other questions.” Cas says firmly.

“Ok, I’ll just be down by the reception.” Bronte heads back outside.

Dean looks over to Cas, “What was that about?”

“We’re not actually interested in buying the motel.” He states, matter of fact as always.

“I know.” Dean replies back, a little snappy.

Cas frowns.

“What?”

“You’re not… actually interested in buying the motel?”

“No, I was just getting into character.” He takes a seat on the old lumpy mattress. All the mattresses would need replacing but the bedframes are solid wood. With a sand and a polish they’d come up good. Not that it mattered, they aren’t…

The wallpaper’s a faded seventies print and the room smells like stale cigarettes and coffee and liminal spaces.

“Is it weird that I find shitty motels kind of homey?”

“Dean… You have a home. _We_ have a home.” Cas pauses, “Although lately you’ve seemed less interested in being there.”

Dean shrugs, “I don’t know man, it’s just, with Sam’s whole hunting headquarters thing there’s always people around. And that’s not- that’s a good thing I mean that’s what the bunker’s for but…”

“It doesn’t make it feel like a home.”

“Something like that.”

“You do realise if you bought a motel there’d be people coming and going all the time. That is the point of a motel.”

Dean freezes, he wasn’t thinking of actually _buying_ the place. He hadn’t said that. Had he?

“That’s different though.” He starts, and then continues while he’s at it because apparently he _is_ thinking about it, “And this place has its own house attached. Maybe it could be good for Sam’s little thing too. I mean a place for hunters to stay without worrying that housekeeping’s going to find their weird shit and think they’re part of some cult or a serial killer or whatever.”

Cas is sitting on the bed opposite him, head tilted.

“Besides,” Dean carries on while he still has the courage, “this place has been on the market over a year. It’s haunted as hell, no one’s going to want to buy it and that agent’s absolutely desperate to sell.”

“Are you saying we shouldn’t get rid of the ghosts to continue to drive the price down for our own benefit?”

“Look man, there’s gotta be some perks to being a hunter. And if being able to buy cheap haunted real estate is one of them…”

Cas laughs softly, and Dean can’t help but smile with him.

“Okay.” Cas says.

“Okay what?”

“We should buy it.”

Dean blinks, “Sorry?”

“Well, we don’t have any other real plans. And I think it would be interesting to learn how to run a business and you don’t want to keep hunting forever.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You were looking at civilian job applications last week.”

“Yeah but… I’m sorry are you seriously saying we should buy a fixer upper motel?”

“Like you said, we could turn it into a resource for hunters. And a home for us that’s not the middle of Sam and Eileen’s hunting operation.”

Dean’s mouth goes dry as his mind goes into overdrive. _“A home for us”_ Cas really has a tendency to drop massive statements into casual conversations.

“Okay yeah,” Dean agrees.

Cas smiles.

_Oh god we’re buying a motel._

Dean stands up just as the temperature of the room plummets. The sound of a scream echoes from the bathroom.

Dean sighs, “Well, we should probably let Bronte know the good news before Casper murders us.”

* * *

**March 29 th 2021**

“You bought the motel?!”

“Uh yeah.”

“What about the ghosts?”

“Well, they’re gone… now.”

Sam stares at his brother in exasperation.

“You used a haunting to get a hold of cheap real estate?”

“I don’t know why more hunters don’t do it.” Dean throws his feet up on the war table, Sam puts his head in his hands. At the other end of the table Eileen and Charlie are trying not to laugh.

“I can’t believe you and Cas are retiring to run a charming B&B in the woods.” Charlie teases, “That’s is quite possibly the gayest thing you could do.”

Dean grimaces a little, “It’s not a B&B, it’s a motel. And we’re not really retiring. It’ll be a pit stop for hunters. Somewhere they know they can go to rest up.”

“Whatever you need to tell yourself.”

Sam is shaking his head at Dean.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Sam insists, “it’s just… this is not how I saw our lives going.”

No, Dean has to agree. It is not.

* * *

**April 18 th 2021**

There’s a polite, but insistent, knocking at the door.

Dean places his coffee on the bench and walks over to open it. They’re not expecting visitors. Bronte the real estate agent had visited the day before to see how they’d gone moving in and to announce her imminent retirement to the Bahamas. But apart from her no one else has been very keen to visit them unannounced.

On the porch stands Larry, a Tupperware container in one hand, looking around hesitantly as if afraid one of the ghosts might still be lurking waiting to kill him.

“Hello?” Dean says.

“I just wanted to say welcome to the neighbourhood.” Larry puts on his friendliest smile but it doesn’t quite cover up his obvious fear of the place, “As a neighbourly thing, not a professional rivals thing.”

“Uh huh.”

Larry holds out the box of cookies in his hands, “My fiancée made these for you and your husband as a welcome gift. Speaking of, where is your husband?”

Dean freezes. _Oh fuck._

They hadn’t gone on with the newlyweds story. Bronte had been so stressed about selling the place that she didn’t care if they were a respectable married couple or three rats in a trenchcoat who wanted to turn the place into a front for the Macedonian mafia. And besides her, they’d barely spoken properly to anyone in town since moving in. Charlie had been bummed her elaborate backstories had gone to waste but it had been such a simple hunt in the end…

Dean’s panic must have shown because Larry’s got an apologetic look on his face, “Oh I’m… I’m so sorry. Did- Are you two no longer together?” He winces at his own directness.

Dean shakes himself, “What yeah, no yeah absolutely.”

His brain races for a way to explain how they’re together but absolutely not married.

“I’m so sorry, you’re just not wearing your wedding ring and I thought-” Larry continues.

“Oh um, no I was just doing some renovations so I… took it off.”

Larry nods, “Oh, ok well anyway.” he holds out the box again and ploughs on and over that little speedbump, “Here are some cookies. Also, there’s a community barbecue happening this Saturday in the town green. You and your husband should come. Be a good opportunity to meet the rest of the town. I’ve been telling everyone about you and I don’t know if you’re into old films but they do showings every month-”

“-That sounds really nice Larry. I uh, gotta go though. Thanks for the cookies.”

“Oh, ok bye-”

Dean shuts the door with a bang cutting Larry off mid farewell.

_Shit._

He takes a few steps back, stands in the middle of his new kitchen. His new kitchen which he owns with his husband. _Husband. Shit._ Well, he clearly hadn’t thought this whole make-up-a-backstory-to-kill-ghosts-then-accidentally-fall-in-love-with-the-haunted-motel-and-buy-it-to-start-a-new-life-with-Cas thing through. They’d only personally told Larry though? Maybe they could just gaslight him a little? Claim they’d never pretended to be married in the first place.

He can hear Cas coming down the stairs. Cas who even now doesn’t realise that he is unofficially fake-married for life. It won’t bother Cas though. Dean knows that. It’ll just be another human thing that Cas is not that upset by. Dean, on the other hand, is upset by all manner of human things.

“Who was that?”

“No-one.” Dean lies.

Cas frowns.

“I mean, it was Larry. He brought us cookies. Wanted to welcome us into the neighbourhood.”

“Oh, that was nice of him.” Cas crosses over to grab the cookies out of Dean’s hand so he can inspect them.

Why is Dean freaking out? Isn’t he past the freaking out stage? He’s accepted, after several months and a few minor breakdowns, that this is a pretty permanent thing. He wants Cas here, Cas here as a romantic partner in a permanent kind of public way. That’s basically being married. Larry and the rest of this town don’t even know them. What does it matter what they think? It’s fine. It’s cool. It’s-

“Are you ok?”

“Yeah.” Dean shrugs but it comes out more like a twitch. He’s not convincing anyone.

“You look like you’re freaking out.”

“I’m not.”

Cas continues to stare at him. Staring again in that quiet, non-judgemental, annoyingly patient way he does while he’s waiting for Dean to sort himself out and manage to put a whole sentence together.

“Larry thinks we’re married.”

“We did tell him we were.”

“And he’s told the whole town.”

“Ok.”

“So according to everyone we are now going to know who doesn’t already know us… we’re married.”

Cas takes a seat at the kitchen bench.

“I mean, not that that’s a problem. I don’t- I don’t have a problem with people thinking we’re married I just…”

Dean trails off, he’s not sure where he’s going with this. Cas opens Larry’s cookie box and offers him one.

He takes it, it’s a good cookie. Cas agrees with him, they’ll have to get the recipe off Larry’s fiancée.

It’s all fine.

* * *

**April – September 2021**

They don’t really talk about it after that. They do their own thing, concentrate on getting the motel up and running and continue telling the people in town their fake backstory while Sam and Eileen give them more and more ridiculous looks.

They don’t wear the rings if they’re alone. Mostly because the cheap nickel stains Cas’s finger after a few hours and it still feels like a costume. Just another cover story like the FBI badges that have sat unused in the Impala’s glovebox for months now.

Six months in the FBI badges do get a use. On a hunt in Iowa with Sam – a group of fairies messing with some local kids. It’s a clean hunt and they decide to stay the extra night rather than legging it straight back to their respective homes for the sake of nostalgia or something. Sam elects to take a nap before dinner (God when did they actually get old?) and Dean finds himself in a local jewellery shop buying two plain bands of real silver.

They’re nothing fancy but they’re expensive enough that they shouldn’t stain Cas’s skin even if he has to wear it for an extended period. Still, they’re a proper commitment.

He doesn’t say anything much when he brings them home. Cas doesn’t either but he wears the ring more often now. Dean does too, even when they’re not in public. Or even when it’s around Sam or Charlie or the rest of their family.

And he doesn’t think too much about it - because if he does it makes him a little sweaty and his thoughts tend to spiral - but it’s nice to have a constant reminder that somehow he’s ended up loved, even if he put the ring on his own finger both times.

And Cas. Cas, who is sat struggling with an Allen key as he puts together the furniture for one of the motel rooms. They haven’t been anywhere today and they’re not going anywhere but he’s wearing his ring on his fourth finger like he does almost every day now.

It’s a small gesture, an acknowledgement of this fake little marriage of theirs. But there’s something about it being fake that’s currently making Dean feel even warmer than he ever thought he could. Because it’s not real, there were no vows or promises. Every day it’s a choice and every day Cas seems to wake up and make that choice and it’s still kind of hard to believe but it’s comforting to see the proof there on his finger.

* * *

**February – March 2022**

It takes almost a year to get the motel up and operating. The first weeks pass by in a blur and at least five small things seem to go wrong for every big thing that goes right. It’s stressful and there’s a few moments where Dean finds himself stopping and wondering what the hell he was thinking giving up hunting and a life he understands to pursue owning a fucking business. But then a hunter named Anya turns up, so grateful to find somewhere to break a curse and clean her guns without being questioned. Then the old couple on their road trip across America who grill Cas on every recommendation he has for places to see. Soon there’s a young family whose kids adore Miracle and before they leave the little boy gives Dean a crudely drawn artwork of Miracle chasing a squirrel and it was sweet and unprompted and the mother wishes him and his “husband” well before they leave. These are human connections Dean hasn’t really ever experienced and this life is nice in a way life never was before.

They celebrate the end of their first month with a night off, leaving the motel in the mostly trustworthy hands of Charlie. They go out for dinner and Dean has thoughts of hitting a bar afterwards but by the time it reaches 9pm he pretty much just wants to go home. He’s washing his hands in the bathroom when it hits him that it’s been a year to the day since Charlie threw two cheap rings at him in the bunker and told him he was married.

He can see Cas sitting across the diner in their booth because he’s still not fancy enough to go to a proper restaurant even for what is apparently kind of their wedding anniversary.

He lets it sit for a moment in a way he rarely does. Larry, their ever-friendly competition and also apparently just their friend, had come around to congratulate them on the first month earlier that day. He’d also been there to deliver an invitation to his own wedding. An invitation addressed to a Cas and Dean Campbell. Two people who don’t actually exist but are feeling more like real people every day.

And he’s happy.

He has a home and a legitimate job and is taking his partner out for anniversary dinners and getting invited to other people’s weddings and local barbecues. It’s still not a normal, apple pie life by far, and he’s glad for that too. Because that’s part of him and he doesn’t want to lose that. If anything, he wants to make it permanent, wants to really build up their storage of silver bullets and holy oil and whatever else travelling hunters might need. Make a permanent spot on the map. A place that might have been a lifeline to his own Dad back in the day. Something to be proud of.

There’s a lot of things he wants to make permanent. Lots of things he never thought he’d get a chance to make permanent. But he’s glad he’s getting that chance. That daily chance to keep making these commitments.

* * *

**June 2022**

Larry gets married on a beautiful summer day. His fiancée, and now wife, Jemima, looks sweet and beautiful in her princess-style dress. It’s very small town, very middle-class and very out of Dean’s comfort zone.

He watches as the happy couple exchange their vows and whilst it’s very sweet he still can’t imagine the idea of himself up there. Even opposite Cas. It’s too performative, too rehearsed and there’s nothing he can imagine he could ever say in front all their friends and family that could ever properly encompass the way he feels about the man sitting next to him.

Cas takes Dean’s hand in his and Dean’s heart swells. This, however, is perfect.

* * *

“So, where did you two get married?”

“Wyoming, up in the mountains, at a little wood cabin.” Dean responds.

“We had a grizzly bear crash the reception.” Cas adds.

“My little brother tried to fight it off.”

“Like Archie from _Riverdale_.” Cas elaborates.

Gretel, the petite town florist, nods seriously, eyes wide, “Jinkies that’s intense.”

“It was,” Cas agrees, “but it was a very beautiful day.”

Dean takes another sip of the punch. Whatever Larry’s mum’s recipe is he needs to get it off her. This stuff is delicious. Not as nice as a good beer but…

“Do you have any photos?” Gretel ventures.

“Huh?” Dean asks through his punch.

“Of the wedding?”

Dean looks at Cas. Cas looks at Dean.

“Well you see…” Dean begins, “bit of a crazy story there too, my little brother was in charge of the photos, and after the bear…”

Dean proceeds to lead Gretel through a long-winded story that probably doesn’t leave Sam in a very good light. It’s pretty unbelievable but then again, it’s still more believable than the real story of how they ended up here.

“We really need to get our facts straight on that one.” Cas says after Gretel leaves to congratulate Larry and Jemima.

Dean nods, “Yeah,, I’m pretty sure last week I told Martin we got married in Texas and you fell off a horse.”

“I wouldn’t fall off a horse.” Cas pouts. “I’m very good at riding horses.”

“Have you ever ridden a horse?”

Cas gives him one of his looks. It doesn’t answer the question.

Dean shakes his head with a laugh and downs the last of the punch, “I’m gonna get more punch.” He declares.

* * *

More punch was a mistake. Or maybe not. Dean’s feeling great. He also needs to vomit. But that’s just part of feeling great. _Viva la vie_ as the Roman’s say or something like that.

It has been way too long since he got properly smashed. _And that’s a good thing_. a voice that sounds a bit like Sam’s says, _Alcohol dependency is not a good thing._

“Shuddup Sam,” he mumbles into his seat.

Cas chucks him an amused look from the driver’s side.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have taken Gretel on in a drinking competition.”

“Mrsuas slefks.” Dean replies.

The passing streetlights throw dancing shadows across Cas’s face as he drives. Light catching in his eyes or highlighting the shape of his cheekbones. Dean’s caught in a realisation that it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. He wonders if this is how Larry felt seeing Jemima walk up that aisle today.

_No,_ he thinks, that wouldn’t even compare to the warmth and love he feels blossoming in his chest. He’s happy for them but it was never the same. It was never improbable- never impossible for them. They never lost everything then discovered the true happiness in getting a second chance.

No, Dean’s lucky in ways no other human will ever understand. He thinks back to all his years alone. All his years with Sam. All his years dancing around the things he felt around Cas. He’s the luckiest bastard alive.

“Do you remember when you met me?”

Cas’s eyes don’t leave the road, “Yes.” He says. _Of course I do._

Dean tries to straighten himself up in his seat. This is important but he’s finding it a little difficult to fully control his limbs. “You said… you said that good things do happen.” He leans over to the driver’s seat and points seriously so Cas will know this is important, “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” He pauses, “And I’m so glad I married you.”

Cas’s eyes don’t leave the road. “You never actually married me.”

Dean shakes his head. He needs Cas to pull over. This is important he needs Cas to understand. To look at him.

He moves over in the seat and tells Cas as much.

They pull onto the side of the road. Cas turns the car off and looks at him. Something almost akin to fear in his eyes.

Dean takes Cas’s hands in his, “Cas,” he whispers, “I did marry you. I am marrying you. Every day when I wake up- when we wake up and we do our fake little marriage thing that’s us getting married for real. I marry you every day in a million tiny ways and I’ll marry you in a million more. And I don’t need to vow that in front of all our friends and family to keep good on that promise.”

Dean can feel Cas stiffen in his hands. They’ve been doing this for a year but they have a very long track record of leaving important things unspoken.

“Unless you wanna…”

Cas shakes his head, “I just want this.”

“Ok.”

Cas remembers how to breathe, and his hands grip tight onto Dean’s.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Cas leans in and kisses Dean chastely on the lips. Like he might have if they ever had had a wedding. It’s sweet and it’s perfect and it’s nothing like he imagined getting married would be like but he’s looking forward to repeating it every day for the rest of his life.

Cas goes to deepen the kiss and Dean pulls away.

“Sorry, I think– I think the punch was a bad idea.”

“So was that-”

“-No. No, I meant that. Remind me to repeat that in the- in the morning.” The world sways a little and it’s not from being in love. “Or not the morning, maybe like next week.”

Cas bats him softly on the shoulder and pushes him back over the other side of the car.

“Just don’t vomit on me or I’ll divorce you.”

“No you won’t.” Dean mumbles. And he knows it’s true. From the smile Cas has on his face and from everything they’ve been through. Cas isn’t going anywhere and they don’t need a piece of paper to tell them that.

* * *

**Then**

Life has found a rhythm. A proper rhythm. There are still good days and bad days, but for the most part there’s just normal days.

Now there’s an established garden and a growing business. There’s always a hunter or two staying with them but there’s also families, backpackers and blow ins with nowhere else to go. The fullness of human life that inhabits these kinds of places and Dean is glad to have them here.

There’s a night, and it’s after a good day. Not because anything incredible happened but just because it’s spring and the sun was particularly warm and the clouds particularly beautiful and Dean’s indulged in a few beers and Cas is sitting on the couch making inane comments at whatever show he’s watching.

Dean isn’t really listening to him as he cleans his guns on the coffee table. His back still hurts a little from trying to get blood out of the carpet in room 3 after those vamps had decided to try and attack the young woman staying in there. Turns out they hadn’t known exactly whose motel they’d snuck into until their heads were hitting the carpet. The woman had left pretty quickly after that and Dean was once again feeling grateful they’d decided to go with dark carpets in all the rooms. Although god forbid anyone ever brought a blacklight here.

Cas’s show ends and he hands the remote over to Dean.

“I’m going to bed.” He announces.

“Ok, I’ll be there in a bit.”

Cas hums and leans down to press a quick kiss to the side of Dean’s head and then he’s gone.

He should probably check the boundary sigils tomorrow he thinks to himself as he reassembles his rifle, deftly placing the parts back together as his Dad taught him so long ago. His mind wanders back to his father as it does sometimes. He wonders what John Winchester would think of him if he could see him now. John had once told him that all he’d wanted was for Dean to have a home, to have a family, to be able to settle down and live the normal life John and Mary had lost.

When he was little, and for a good time after that, he’d dreamt of that too. The mythic John and Mary’s white picket fence, American Dream, marriage and the nice house in the suburbs. He has enough experience and history now to know it was never quite as perfect as John had tried to convince himself. Still, marriage had been something to aspire to. Marriage meant you’d done life the good and proper way, you’d conquered all your demons -it was the happily ever after with everyone in their proper place.

He knows that this isn’t quite what John had in mind for his happily ever after. He’s not even sure if it really is that. Life is too messy for something as simple as a ‘happily ever after’.

But he is happy.

And he has his own normality and sometimes that includes killing vampires in room 3 and having the Queen of Hell show up unannounced for lunch with him and his brother but it also involves being invited to town barbecues and having inane conversations with the guy they buy their groceries from. It’s the apple pie life in a way that would never be the apple pie life John imagined for him.

And it’s damn good.

He finishes and puts the guns back away. Turns the television off and makes sure the devil’s trap at the front door is covered by the mat, the lights are switched off and the doors are locked.

Cas is already asleep by the time he’s finished brushing his teeth and made it to their bed.

He places the silver ring on the nightstand as he does every night and slips under the covers beside his sleeping husband.

“Hey Cas,” he says even as he knows he can’t hear him, “I think I’m gonna marry you tomorrow.”

Cas doesn’t respond but he doesn’t have to. Dean already knows it’s a yes.


End file.
